A Wassailia Carol
by AquaTurquoise
Summary: Summary: This is an "AquaTurquoise" take on the very famous book "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens, starring our favorite Royal Sorcerer as Ebenezer Scrooge! (Merry Christmas! :D)


A Wassailia Carol

Summary: This is an "AquaTurquoise" take on the very famous book _A Christmas Carol_ by Charles Dickens, starring our favorite Royal Sorcerer as Ebenezer Scrooge!

Disclaimer: I don't own a lot of things… "Sofia the First," "A Christmas Carol," a turkey… lol

A/N: I absolutely adore the Muppets and specifically "A Muppets Christmas Carol." Naturally, watching it numerous times led to me saying something along the lines of, "Hey! I want to do a 'Sofia the First' version of that story!" And here we are… Enjoy! (PS—I've bolded the text outside of the main story, just in case my borders don't show up.)

" **Mr. Cedric," Sofia called sweetly before Cedric could leave her bedroom after having bid her goodnight. With Wassailia upon them (tomorrow, as a matter of fact), they'd been discussing their plans for the party and various other things.**

" **So close," the sorcerer mumbled to himself before turning back to his apprentice and smiling pleasantly. "Yes, Sofia?"**

" **I have a favor to ask…" She gave him her most endearing smile she could, hoping he'd agree.**

" **Naturally." He walked over to her and sat on the bed, folding his arms and waiting on her to continue.**

" **Do you remember last year when you read me a Wassailia story?"**

" **I know where this is going," he sighed with a shake of his head. "Sofia, I'm tired. I need some rest."**

" **Just one story?" She gazed at him imploringly, hoping he'd agree.**

" **Fine. One story." He held one hand up as she almost gleefully thanked him. "** _ **One**_ **story, Sofia. Not two, not ten, not a hundred and fifty-two!"**

 **She giggled. "Mr. Cedric!" The princess then nodded. "I understand. One story." She moved over to the center of her bed and patted the spot beside her.**

 **Cedric rolled his eyes and sat down on the spot she'd saved for him. He then relaxed against her numerous pillows, the feeling of the gentleness against his back calming him. "Ooh, I need some pillows like** _ **these**_ **."**

 **Sofia grinned and picked up a book, handing it to him. "Here."**

 **The sorcerer took the book and read the title. "** _ **A Wassailia Carol**_ **. Hmm, I remember this story."**

" **Yeah, it's a good one. I have a request though." She smiled cutely as he glanced toward her warily. "Can we change it up a bit?"**

 **Cedric smirked. "What did you have in mind?"**

" **Let's make the characters in the story people we know!"**

" **Hmm, all right. That should make it far more entertaining. And just whom have you chosen as the main character?"**

 **She grinned sheepishly. "Um…you?"**

" **What?! I'm not** _ **that**_ **bad!"**

 **Sofia laughed. "Of course not, Mr. Cedric! I just thought…well…you have a tendency to be a little…grumpy sometimes."**

" **So does Baileywick, yet I don't see him being cast into this role." He huffed.**

" **I have plans for him too. Please, Mr. Cedric? Besides, you know it's going to be a happy ending!"**

" **Okay, fine…" He grumbled as he opened the book. "Making me the grumpy and insensitive lead character… I'll remember that."**

 **Sofia grinned. "Oh, Mr. Cedric…" She leaned in close so she could read the story with him.**

" **Greylock was dead to begin with… Yep, dead as a doornail. Why do they say that anyway? How is a doornail dead?"**

" **Mr. Cedric," Sofia giggled as she shook her head. "Are you going to take this seriously?"**

" **Absolutely…not." He grinned and looked excitedly back at the book. "Now then…"**

It had been a few years since the passing of Greylock the Grand, a rambunctious and feisty sorcerer who could best anyone with a simple prank or trick. Yet another side to him, the greedy side, was often seen in the way he conducted business.

Greylock had been in business with his partner, Cedric the Sensational. Together they were the best magical team in the kingdom of Enchancia. However, their knowledge and powers soon went to their heads, and they became absolutely despicable. No one hired them for their royal sorcerers, due to their actions and the general fear that they would ultimately take over the kingdom via dark magic, though it was uncertain if either sorcerer knew how to conjure such a thing.

Cedric was a bit worse than Greylock. While the latter would often chat up visitors and be somewhat less repulsive, Cedric had a habit of sneering at people and driving them away. He was said to be one of the most feared and avoided people in Enchancia.

 **Cedric glared at the words in the book then glanced down at Sofia, who grinned sheepishly. "This is a very one-sided story I'm seeing here."**

 **Sofia giggled. "Give it a chance, Mr. Cedric. You know the main character always gets a chance for redemption."**

" **Very well…"**

Once Greylock passed so suddenly, Cedric needed some assistance running his workshop, which was used to produce numerous potions, spells, and an assortment of other things. He soon hired someone he'd gone to school with many years ago: Roland, a poor but kind man from the village of Dunwitty.

 **Cedric snickered, not able to help himself.**

 **Sofia blinked. "What's so funny?"**

" **Oh, nothing."**

Roland was a fair-haired man with little to no skill in magic, but he was rather good in regular business. Therefore, he managed the workshop's finances and allotted the appropriate amount of spending for supplies. Soon, with Roland's expertise, the sorcerer became very rich and very much a nuisance. He paid his sole employee very little. He refused to give to charity.

" _Are there no poor houses for the homeless to go to?" he'd once asked a visiting money collector._

" _Well, yes, sir, there are," the collector had replied, "but with the conditions as poor as they are, many would rather die."_

 _Sheer annoyance had built up in the sorcerer at that point. "If they're going to die, then get on with it, and decrease the surplus population!"_

Needless to say, that didn't help his reputation at all… He soon became known as the most _heartless_ person in Enchancia. And that suited him just fine.

" **Hmm," Cedric grumbled as Sofia snickered. "I'm not quite sure I like this impression of me, Sofia."**

" **It's just a story, Mr. Cedric," she reminded him gently. "Come on, we'll be getting to the good part soon!"**

" **Oh, all right."**

It was the day before Wassailia, and snow had fallen fresh and crisp upon the ground. Cedric sat in his workshop, pouring over spell book after spell book. To say that the content of the books captivated him was an understatement. He lived and breathed these books. These books and their information had made him a very rich man indeed. Why, he could very well say that thanks to the content, he'd perfected his potions and spells and had taken to exercising them in many situations, charging three times what anyone—especially a sorcerer—would ever have the nerve to charge.

His employee Roland, who fancied himself a rich man in his own right (rich in family, that is), sat in his designated corner, alphabetizing Cedric's potions. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Cedric," he began quietly, hoping not to antagonize his boss today. The last thing he needed was to get on this guy's bad side. Seeing he had the sorcerer's attention, though it appeared a bit irritated judging by his facial features, the fair-haired man cleared his throat nervously. "This vial appears to be labeled 'arsenic.' Surely that is a misprint, correct?"

Cedric smirked, an unnerving look in the other man's opinion. "As a matter of fact, Roland…it's not."

"O-Oh… Never mind then." Roland ducked his head, pressed not to ask any further questions, lest he discover exactly why the sorcerer had such an item in his possession.

Both looked up when the door opened, the bell above it ringing. A man with light brown hair entered, his armor still on, indicating his knight status. While Roland smiled fondly at the visitor, Cedric rolled his eyes.

"Happy Wassailia, Uncle Cedric!" the man greeted warmly as he moved forward, grasping his relation's cold hand in his grip and shaking it. "How are you?"

"Bartleby, dear nephew… What brings you here?" He frowned. "You're not here to ask for another loan, are you?"

"Why, of course not! I'll have you know that my dear Tilly and I have settled well without need for gold or silver."

Cedric scoffed. "Ugh, why ever did you choose to get married?"

The younger man just grinned, a silly lovesick smile spreading across his face. "I fell in love."

The sorcerer sneered. "Ha! Love, such a waste of energy. Take my word for it, Bartleby: love is a fool's way of tricking himself into believing anything is possible. Stick with what is real. Hard work and money for your efforts is real. I see no long-lasting effects with _love_."

"Maybe that's because you never allow anyone to love you," his nephew replied pointedly, folding his arms…then finding it a bit difficult to retain that stance as his armor prohibited him from maneuvering as he wanted.

Roland silently cheered the younger man on. While he'd never outright agree with him, especially in front of his boss, he knew in his heart that the kind-hearted knight made more sense as a dreamer than most well-educated men ever could.

"Did you come here for a reason other than to annoy me?" the sorcerer returned, growing tired of his sole family member already.

"In fact, I did! Come have dinner with me and Tilly tomorrow night. It's our treat, and the whole family will be delighted to see you."

Cedric scoffed. "I doubt that."

"So will you come?"

"Don't count on it." He returned to his work. "You know where the door is."

Bartleby still smiled. "Well then… I shall see you after the holidays. Happy Wassailia, Uncle Cedric!" He beamed once more as he shut the door behind him.

"Bah, humbug," the older man grumbled as he shifted his eyes toward his employee, who seemed to be smiling softly at the exchange. "Find something funny, do you?"

"Um, no, Mr. Cedric…just thinking about…Wassailia."

"Ugh, Wassailia this, Wassailia that. I tell you—Enchancia and the entire world would be better off if there were _no_ Wassailia. It's just another excuse to pick a man's pocket for money each winter, giving to the 'poor and needy' as they proclaim. You and I both know very well that's not what really happens with that money, Roland."

The other man blinked. "It's…not?"

"Don't be so naïve!" He frowned when his fellow worker flinched at his tone. "Tax collectors are more honest and caring than charity workers. Keep that in mind next time you offer a schilling to some stranger."

"Y-Yes, sir…"

"Here we come a wassailing, among the leaves so green," sang a young voice outside.

"What is that blasted sound?" Cedric sighed in annoyance and stood up from his desk, marching over to the door and opening it, glaring daggers at a sandy-haired child who stood at his step. "What do you want?!"

The boy gasped in shock, stumbling backwards off the steps and looking up at the sorcerer in fear. "U-Uh… Hi, Mr. Cedric… My name's Desmond. I was just…singing a song to bring cheer to you this Wassailia!" He smiled sheepishly. "Heh…"

"Well, keep your cheer to yourself, boy, and your song, too." With that, he slammed the door.

Desmond's face changed to one of dismay as he stood, brushing the snow from his coat. He sighed sadly as he shuffled away.

A clock chimed in the corner a few hours later, signaling the end of the work day. Roland gathered his things and stood from his desk as he smiled tiredly at his boss. "I believe that's the end of the work day, Mr. Cedric."

"Indeed… See you tomorrow morning." Cedric wasn't even tired. He couldn't cease his hands from working. Work was all he ever did, all he ever cared about.

"Um…" Roland scratched the back of his head, wondering how to approach this subject. "T-Tomorrow is Wassailia, sir…"

"…And?" Cedric knew where this was going already. They had the same discussion each year.

"Well, traditionally, it's customary for the employees to get the day off to celebrate with family…"

"The _whole_ day?" The purple-clad sorcerer glared over at his employee. "And I suppose you'll want this to be a _paid_ day as well?"

"N-No! Well, I mean, unless you want it to be… But if you please, sir, I owe it to my family to be with them on this one day. It's… It's Wassailia, sir."

Cedric kept an even gaze as he considered Roland's words. "It's a poor excuse for gouging a man of money each year."

Roland lowered his eyes to the floor. Well, so much for that.

"However, since I seem to be the only one who understands that, you may have tomorrow off." Cedric held up his hand to keep the fair-haired man from becoming excited and therefore unbearable. " _But_ you be here all the earlier the next morning, understood?"

"Yes, sir! Happy Wassailia, Mr. Cedric!" He laughed happily and left in a flash, not willing to stay behind any longer.

"Psh, Happy Wassailia indeed…"

" **Ooh, this is getting good," Sofia giggled as she leaned farther over, trying to get a better look at the book.**

" **Do you** _ **mind**_ **?" Cedric griped as he lowered the book and pushed up from the bed, attempting to get comfortable. "If you keep moving in on my personal space, I'm likely to fall off the bed."**

" **Oh, Mr. Cedric, you'll be fine. And I told you that you'd be great in this role!"**

" **Ugh, please. I'm not this stingy and aloof. I have my good days, I'll have you know."**

" **I know," she agreed with a smile. "Let's just hope we can say the same for your book self too!" She nudged him playfully. "Besides, you know you like the fact that your character gets to boss my dad around for once instead of it being the other way around."**

 **Cedric grinned. "I admit, I do like that. It's just a refreshing new take on this whole scenario, isn't it?"**

 **She laughed. "I guess you could say that. So what happens next?"**

" **Well, let's see…"**

Cedric trudged home through the thick blanket of snow, his work robe and coat wrapped securely around himself. He hated the snow, but he didn't necessarily loathe the cold. Cold was cheap, and it kept people at a distance. The last thing he wanted or needed right now during Wassailia was a bunch of people attempting to invade his personal space.

He arrived to his home on the very cusp of Enchancia, not too close and not too far from the castle and the surroundings areas. It was just far enough to never receive visitors, but not too far for him to walk. He approached the door, his hands fiddling with the keys to unlock it. He made a sound of annoyance as he dropped the keys, and he picked them up before looking at the door again.

His eyes widened when his door knocker, typically an intricately-designed raven, morphed into a very familiar face.

"Ohh…," the face groaned before drawling out, "Ce…dric…"

"G-G-Greylock?" Cedric blinked, shaking his head and trying to clear it. He opened his eyes and looked back at the door knocker, which was again a raven. "I…must need some rest." Holding one hand to his head, he unlocked the door, rushed in, and locked it back just as quickly. "Humbug…"

A few hours later, a fire had been built in the hearth of his room. Cedric sat in his chair, his eyes straining in the firelight to read one of his oldest spell books. It was also his favorite, one given to him by his mother many years ago. He yawned before hearing a chime in the distance, signaling another hour gone past. Cedric shut his book, figuring that for a sign that he needed to go to bed.

He froze when he heard a loud pounding downstairs, and soon a sound of creaking steps and chains dragging along the floorboards. Cedric stared, stunned, at the door that separated him from the strange noise. He took a sharp breath when the dragging chains suddenly ceased. Maybe…it had been his imagination?

*BOOM*

The door banged open, and in the doorway stood—er, floated—the spirit of his long past partner.

"G-Greylock?" Cedric stuttered, surprised at his appearance.

"Cedric!" the ghost cried, racing toward him and tripping over his chains, falling flat on his face. "Ah, bother. Curse these chains!" Greylock collected himself and stood once again, brushing off the imaginary dust from his ghostly suit. "How are you, old boy?"

"How am I? Well, let's see. _I_ am alive… You're dead! You shouldn't be here!" Cedric pointed toward the door. "What's the big idea, scaring the living daylights out of me like that?" He paused, holding his hands to his head. "I must be out of my mind. I'm speaking to the ghost of my dead partner. I'm going to bed." He turned, aiming to leave.

"Cedric, wait!" Greylock threw one of his chains toward Cedric, getting his attention though luckily not hitting him.

"What's the big idea?" the other sorcerer snapped as he whirled toward the taller man. " _You_ are not here. You must be some figment of my imagination."

The spirit folded his arms, huffing. "You always were the stubborn one, not taking anything at face value. Well, if you expect some form of _peace_ hereafter, I suggest you shut up and sit down, because I have a lot to tell you."

"But I—"

"Sit!" Greylock growled, jabbing his finger toward the chair.

Cedric gulped, never having heard his friend react in such a way. He did as he was told and sat down.

"You're a terrible person."

"Wha-?"

"So was I. And now I carry these wretched chains with me everywhere I go." For reference, he hauled a handful of his chains, locks fastened to them among other things, and dropped them to the hardwood floor. A satisfying 'clunk' sounded as they scattered about. "Each bad deed I did or wrong I committed against others in life forged the chain links you see here."

"But… Greylock, you weren't completely heartless when it came to your fellow man," Cedric reasoned, earning a smirk from the brown-haired former sorcerer.

"True. You, however, are a different story. You, Cedric, who shut yourself off from the world yet attack ruthlessly and needlessly the entire human population, if it suits you. You think _my_ chains are bad? Every horrid thing you do earns you a new link in your own chains. I imagine they must be as long as the entire kingdom of Enchancia by now."

Cedric stared at his friend in disbelief. "Speak _some_ comfort to me, Greylock. Tell me what good I've done so that I don't have to bear the same burden."

A loud laugh erupted from Greylock's mouth. "Good? Cedric the Sensational you may be called, but you have done nothing truly sensational for anyone but yourself. What good have you done? You've had the decency to avoid humans so you don't plague them with your bad mood."

The dark-haired sorcerer growled. "Why, you! Leave! If you're only going to insult me, then just go already. I already have enough torment in my life; I don't need you adding to it."

"Cedric, if you don't change, you're going to have it far worse than me when you move on to the other side. Therefore, you have a second chance. Over the next several hours, you'll be visited by three different spirits."

"Oh, goody, more spirits…" He sighed, seeing the disapproving look on the spirit's face. "No offense. And can't I just take them on all at once so I can get it over with?"

Greylock shot him a pointed look. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. Expect the first ghost when the bell tolls one. Heed their words; learn something for a change. If you do not change, you will suffer greatly for it." With that, Greylock disappeared in a smattering of smoke and ripped feathers.

Cedric coughed, fanning the debris away. "Ugh… Ghosts, spirits… Wassailia nonsense as usual." He looked around curiously, noting on his pocket watch that it was 12:57. "No matter. I must have been hallucinating. I must not be sleeping well…" He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, starting to sink into a slumber.

Soon enough, a loud chime echoed in the empty room, signaling that it was now 1:00 in the morning. Cedric gasped, waking. He made a sound between a fearful yelp and a high-pitched squeak when he saw a shadow standing before him. "Wh-Who are you?! I have a wand!"

"Put the stick down; I'm not going to hurt you."

Cedric lit a candle to see better, seeing a tall man with spectacles and slicked back silver hair. He was dressed rather immaculately, and he held a firm expression on his face. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Ghost of Wassailia Past."

" **Baileywick!" Sofia cheered happily, thrilled with their decision on the first ghost. "This role is perfect for him, don't you think?"**

" **Hmm, a ghost who orders people around and points out flaws of the past? Yes, I'd say so, Sofia," Cedric added with a chuckle. "Just don't give the real Baileywick any ideas.**

"The Ghost of…?" Cedric looked around, attempting to see if others were nearby. Surely this must be some sort of joke. "You just look like a normal human being."

"I can remember nearly eighteen hundred years."

"Why are you here?" He was not about to be taken in my some well-dressed butler-looking man. Not again (long story).

"For your welfare," the Ghost of Wassailia Past responded seriously.

"To be honest, spirit, if people _and_ ghosts would simply leave me alone and let me sleep, then my _welfare_ would be just fine."

The silver-haired man smiled knowingly, but it still didn't look all that amused. "Your salvation then." He held out his hand. "Come. Take my hand and you shall fly."

Cedric backed up a step. "You may not have noticed, but I, unlike you, am very much human. I can't fly."

"You can if you trust me and hold on tight." Without waiting for a response, the spirit grabbed Cedric's hand and hurled them out the window, falling.

"SPIRIT! I don't want to die!"

"That's what everyone says when I push them out the window," the spirit joked lightly.

"WHAT?!"

"I'm just kidding. Relax." Suddenly, both spirit and sorcerer found themselves in an entirely different location…and time, so it seemed. "Here we are."

"And where exactly is 'here?'" Cedric grumbled as he opened his eyes again and looked around. He gasped. "I-It's Hexley Hall." He sighed warmly, feelings of familiarity rushing through him. "I was a top student here, along with my friend Greylock. Oh, we caused so much mischief."

"I know," the Ghost of Wassailia Past responded lightly, rolling his eyes. "I've reviewed your past a few times now…"

Choosing to ignore this questionable confession, Cedric watched as a younger version of himself entered the classroom, eyes bright and book already out and prepared for the day's lesson. "I was always very serious about my studies, though. My father had trained me to be a top-notch sorcerer, and I wasn't about to let him down."

"I'd say you succeeded. You became so successful that you forgot about most other classmates who called themselves your friends along the way."

Cedric's face fell at this mentioning. "I suppose you're right… I didn't mean to. It just happened that way." He tugged his coat tighter around his body, attempting to maintain some warmth. He eyed his former self as the scenes played on, each a reel of his life as he aged, even up to his preteen years. "I never realized how much I kept to myself."

"Mm. Not much has changed, hmm?" The spirit stepped aside so his charge could examine his former life.

"No… I suppose not."

"Let's see a different time in your life, a Wassailia time." The Ghost of Wassailia Past took Cedric's hand again, flashing them to a moment several years in the future.

A new Cedric, now perhaps nineteen years old, shoved his way through the crowd of people at one of the annual festive parties. He sighed in relief when he located someone familiar. "Father!"

Goodwin the Great, the sorcerer's father, turned with a bright smile. "Cedric! So glad you're enjoying the party! It's quite a spectacle, isn't it?"

Cedric frowned. His father had changed—he was a fantastic person, generous to a fault, and courteous. He'd always had such elements, but now it was stronger. "Do you have any idea how much this party is going to cost?"

"Oh, Cedric, quit worrying about the money." Goodwin rolled his eyes. "You can't even enjoy yourself for two minutes without worrying about monetary woes. Really, allow yourself to have some fun for a change, eh?"

" **Even your dad made it into this story!" Sofia laughed. "How'd you like that change?"**

 **Cedric smiled and shrugged. "It's not entirely unwelcome," he admitted. "Strange, but interesting. When are we going to get to the third ghost? I'm curious to see whom you have chosen for that role."**

 **The girl grinned. "Patience, Mr. Cedric."**

Cedric frowned, watching his father turn and grab someone's arm, pulling her front and center. He blinked, noticing she was quite beautiful. Captivating eyes, beautiful long brown hair tied into a high ponytail. Who was this?

"Cedric, I'd like you to meet one of the most fascinating up-and-coming sorceresses this side of Enchancia." Goodwin beamed. "This is Sascha."

 **Cedric snapped the book shut. "I don't think so."**

 **Sofia looked at her mentor pleadingly. "Please, Mr. Cedric? There aren't that many women to choose from around here, and it's only temporary!" She pouted a little, hoping to change his mind.**

" **Bed time."**

 **Sofia giggled. "Aw, Mr. Cedric, I was just kidding!" She smiled brightly. "It doesn't have to be Miss Sascha. It could even be Ms. Flora if you'd like!"**

 **He glared at her pointedly. "…** _ **Fine**_ **. Sascha can be this character—but** _ **only**_ **this time. And I want her to have an unfortunate occurrence."**

 **The princess laughed and shook her head. "She doesn't have many scenes, if it makes you feel better."**

" **It does." He reopened the book, but not without a few grumbled words under his breath.**

Cedric stared, mouth slightly dropped, at the woman who stood before him. She seemed shy and sweet, but he knew there was more to her than that. A sorceress? That made everything even more appealing in his eyes. (Insert a normal Cedric grimace here!)

"Hi, Cedric," Sascha greeted softly.

"H-Hi, Aschash… I mean Sascha!" He blushed a little, only calmed when she laughed at his mistake. "Sorry…"

"It's quite all right."

"I'm glad you two finally met!" Goodwin cheered, beginning to explain each other to the two.

The Ghost of Wassailia Past glanced at the older Cedric. "I take it you remember this meeting?"

"I do, granted I'd rather forget it." He folded his arms. "Things didn't quite work out the way I'd intended…"

"Indeed," the spirit echoed as the scene switched to a future Wassailia, in which Cedric and Sascha had been immersed in an argument, leading to Sascha storming out of his workshop, slamming the door behind her. "You cared more about money and power than you did about her, and you lost her."

"Like I need a reminder!" Cedric yelled.

"Look, don't get upset with me," the past spirit instructed with his arms folded and his piercing gaze set on Cedric's face. "These are _your_ memories, not mine. The past is in the past, as they say. These are just shadows of what has already happened."

"I don't need a lecture!" Cedric argued back, wrapping his coat more securely around his frame. "I'm well aware of my past. After all, I was there."

"Hmm, a lot of good it did you…"

"What was that?"

The spirit grinned and looked away. "Nothing." He turned away, his unearthly body beginning to fade. "Maybe you'll soon learn something from your past. Although they have said that history repeats itself…"

Cedric frowned. "I'll do well never to revisit my past again if I can help it. The past does nothing for me except bring up bad memories."

"Then maybe you'll take care to make _new_ memories—good ones. If only you would stop being so stubborn." With that the spirit vanished.

Cedric gasped, sitting up in his bed and looking around. He was in his room. He held a hand to his head, trying to make sense of what he'd just seen…or had it been a dream? "Ugh." He lay down again, trying to force himself back to sleep. "Enough of his ridiculousness. Greylock, if I ever see you again, you'd better run."

Suddenly, the entire room lit up with bright lights, grand music, and a festive atmosphere.

The sorcerer seemed baffled, and he sat up on his bed, peaking through the curtains that fell along either side of his bed. He eyed a young girl dressed in a red and gold gown, her blonde hair falling in waves past her shoulders, and her face full of happiness as she ran from one gift to another now scattered about his room.

"Ooh, I wonder what's in here!" she said excitedly as she shook the gifts individually. She then caught sight of Cedric. "Oh, hi!"

" **Even Princess Amber made it into this story," Cedric mused, shaking his head. "By the way, where are you supposed to come in?"**

 **Sofia smiled secretively. "That's a surprise!"**

" **Whatever you say, Sofia…"**

"Who are you?" Cedric demanded, still not entirely used to spirits just suddenly occupying his house.

"I'm the Ghost of Wassailia Present!" the blonde girl announced happily with a cheery mirth about her. "Actually, considering my occupation and the time of year it is, maybe I'll be the Ghost of Wassailia Present _s_ , huh? Huh?" She giggled.

"My, you're a chatty spirit, aren't you?" Cedric observed, frowning. He'd already had enough discussion with the previous spirit. He didn't know if he could handle another, especially one who looked and acted like a _child_.

"I am! Well, I had hundreds of siblings who've come before me, and they all agree I'm a little…spirited. Get it?" She grinned, making Cedric roll his eyes. "And you're Cedric the Sensational, huh? You're a little taller than I thought you would be."

The sorcerer blinked. "Thank…you?"

"Well, come on. We've got plenty to see, but we don't have all night." She held out her hand, waiting.

"What is it with you spirits and flying everywhere?" he muttered as he reluctantly took her hand.

"Well, I'm sorry, but not all of us can be human." She grinned. "Actually, that's not such a bad thing. Hold on!"

Within a flash, they vanished from the house and landed on the cold streets of Enchancia.

Cedric looked around, seeing many people he recognized but did not personally know. He made a mental note that such a thing was entirely too common, really… He then caught sight of a house that seemed familiar. "Hey, I believe that's my nephew's house."

The Ghost of Wassailia Present nodded. "Let's go inside and see what's going on."

"We can't just waltz in without permission! Not only is it vile and presumptuous, but…I'm not dressed for the occasion."

The girl rolled her eyes. "I think you have bigger things to worry about, Cedric: your _soul_ for example? Besides, you were invited, and they can't see you anyway. Now let's go!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him into the house.

"Oh, am I glad everyone was able to get together tonight," Tilly announced with a happy smile before noticing the look on her husband's face. "Oh, sorry, Bartleby… I know your Uncle Cedric turned down your invitation again…" She sighed. "I don't know why you bother though. He never comes."

"I know, Tilly, but… It's worth a try, right?" He sat beside her on the loveseat as their guests were gathered with them. "Still, I suppose I can't expect much anymore…"

Tilly smiled and snuggled closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder. "You have a good heart, dear, and hopefully he'll see that someday."

"I do hope so…"

Cedric felt something foreign building up in him. Was this what guilt felt like? He sighed. He hated to see his nephew so disappointed, but he really didn't do well with other people. Crowds were torture devices, in his opinion, with the absolute buffoonery that could occur if too many were gathered.

The younger-looking spirit tugged on his sleeve, pulling him out of his fixed state. "Come on. There's another house you _really_ need to see."

He nodded, turning and leaving with her. Once they reached their next destination, he gasped upon looking through the windows. "Roland?"

"Your hardest working employee ever," the girl corrected. "Out of everyone you've hired, he's the only one who's been able to put up with you all these years, and yet you treat him like the dirt beneath your feet and pay him so little. Look, he's got a pretty large family to support."

Cedric glanced at Roland's wife, Miranda, who was cooking something in the corner. Then he noticed a young blonde boy, a girl with long black hair, and then another girl with shoulder-length auburn hair sitting in a circle on the carpet and playing a game together.

The door opened, and in walked Roland. "Evening, everyone," he greeted tiredly.

The first two kids jumped up excitedly, running over to their father.

"Dad!" the boy laughed excitedly.

"Hi there, James," Roland returned with a grin. He looked toward the dark-haired girl next. "Vivian, how are you tonight, dear?"

"Fine, Dad," she replied sweetly and politely, a smile gracing her face.

The man nodded and looked at his third child, a small smile gracing his lips. "Sofia?"

Sofia stood slowly before walking a little shakily to her father, giving him a hug. "Hi, Dad," she told him warmly.

 **Cedric glanced at his apprentice. "You had to take on this role, didn't you?"**

 **She smiled in response. "I like the message behind this role. Besides, we get to bond a little more! Keep reading."**

 **He nodded.**

"Spirit," Cedric began slowly as he watched the supposedly youngest daughter walk slowly next to her father, "what is wrong with that girl?"

"Oh, Sofia?" the Ghost of Wassailia Present asked, shrugging. "The doctors can't figure out what's going on with her, but they suspect a poor heart may be to blame."

They returned to the scene, watching as the family gathered for dinner.

"To the founder of our feast, Mr. Cedric," Roland announced with his glass in the air.

His wife, on the other hand, seemed to disagree with his charge. "Founder of the feast, indeed," she bit out bitterly. "He pays you so little, yet you rejoice for this meager feast we have. Roland, I don't know how you can keep defending that man."

He sighed. "I know, dear, but at least we have something for Wassailia…and the children are happy and healthy."

"But for how long?" she asked, barely a whisper.

Sofia just smiled, trying to alleviate the sad atmosphere. "I hope Mr. Cedric has a Happy Wassailia, and I know things will be better for us someday, Mom. You just have to believe that things will be all right."

Miranda smiled fondly at her daughter. "I suppose you're right, Sofia…"

With that the mood lightened and the family enjoyed their meal together.

Cedric was touched by the gesture of the small girl he didn't even know, but he was concerned about something. He turned to the spirit. "Will she…survive? She looks a little worse for wear." He then looked back at Sofia again.

For the first time that night, the spirit frowned. "Why do you care? Weren't you the very one who said that people need to go ahead and perish so that we could 'decrease the surplus population?'"

Cedric looked horrified as he tore his eyes from Sofia and looked at the blonde girl. "I didn't mean _her_!"

"Who did you mean, then? People who can't pay their taxes? People who anger you, whether they mean to or not?" She scoffed. "A bit of a double standard, don't you say?"

He appeared somewhat ashamed as he looked back through the window. "Just tell me…will she be all right?"

The spirit sighed. "My realm is the present, so I can't say anything for certain. But I _will_ say if things continue as they have, if things remain unchanged, Sofia will probably die."

"No…" He glanced back at the girl beside him, realizing she was fading. "Spirit, what's wrong with you?"

"Hmm, the time has come for me to go." She gestured backward as a chiming bell began. "Hopefully you'll take what you've seen here tonight and do something about it."

"Y-You're leaving?" Cedric knelt to the girl, trying to reach her, but his hand going straight through her. "S-So what happens now?"

The smile returned, though it was tired. "I leave you with the Ghost of Wassailia Yet to Come. Learn something from him, as you have with us. And Cedric, don't take anything for granted." She giggled and vanished.

Cedric looked around, standing once again and shivering as a cold breeze blew past him. He turned and gasped, seeing a floating apparition before him. It looked as if someone had thrown a long dark cloak over the figure, and it seemed to hover. "A-Are you the final spirit?"

The Ghost of Wassailia Yet to Come said nothing. He made no acknowledgement whatsoever except to continue floating.

"Spirit, I fear you more than any other I've met tonight, but I know I must see what you have to teach me should I hope to better myself…and those around me. Lead on, because the night is almost over. I need to learn something from this, I know. Please, show me."

The spirit took this invitation and floated past him, leading him into a future setting. The buildings were a bit more run-down, things looked more of a gray shade than anything, and few people were around. It looked bleak.

Cedric and the final spirit paused as three men known as Magnus, Gillium, and Popov strolled past chatting.

"I don't know when he passed," Popov told the other two. "All I know is he's dead."

"Good riddance," Magnus responded with a chortle. "Never did like the man."

"Don't know many who did," Popov responded with a laugh.

"Well, I wouldn't mind going to the funeral," Gillium said, garnering some surprised looks from his pals. "As long as they provide lunch."

"Yes, indeed!"

Cedric flinched at the conversation. Could people really be so cruel? Seriously? "Spirit, I get it. I understand. You're trying to show me that whoever it is those gentlemen were talking about may have a case similar to my own, yes? Could we maybe see a bit more a…happier scenario?"

The spirit float past him once more, leading the sorcerer into a local shop. Inside, there were people discussing several articles of clothing, blankets, and trinkets found in the unfortunate recently-passed man's home.

"Why are these blankets still warm?" the shopkeeper, known as Slickwell, asked with a quirked eyebrow.

A rather short woman, Miss Nettle, just snickered. "I took them off his bed, where he was lying."

" **All right, hold it," Cedric growled as he sat up again, knocking Sofia onto the bed by accident. He gave her a pointed look as she sat up, grinning innocently. "It was bad enough involving** _ **Sascha**_ **in this story. Now you go and put her actual self of Miss Nettle AND Slickwell into the plot? Sofia, I swear, this is bad story-telling at its finest."**

" **But think about it, Mr. Cedric," she urged with a shrug, "who better to be the sneaky, underhanded shop-keeper than Slickwell? And who better to do something weird and creepy than Miss Nettle? It makes sense!"**

" **Sense or no—I just can't deal with this addition." He huffed, glaring at the pages of the book. "And we still have a few more pages to go."**

" **Mr. Cedric, remember, it's just a story. Besides, their parts are even smaller than Miss Sascha's! I mean, technically, that part is over." She grinned as she patted his hand. "It'll be all right."**

" **You're far too mischievous for a princess," he told her, but there was a small smile on his face now. "Fine. Let's finish this."**

" **Yay!"**

Cedric made a face of disgust as the people in the shop kept talking. "Talk about crude," he uttered, a frown creasing his brow. "Spirit, this isn't exactly _happy_ … Maybe let's try a touch of tenderness…? Someone who means well?"

This time the scene faded, and they reappeared in Roland's home.

"Oh, much better… But…where is everyone?" He looked around, only able to find Miranda cooking and the two older children sitting silently at the table, their faces downcast. "What's gone on here?"

Roland entered, removing his coat and setting it aside. He knelt on the floor as his two children hurried over to him, breaking down crying. This in turn made Roland cry as well.

Cedric appeared confused and glanced at the spirit beside him. "What's wrong? Why are they all so upset?"

James sniffled as he looked up at his father. "Dad, I miss Sofia."

"So do I, James… But she's in a better place now…"

Cedric gasped.

"And we'll never forget her, will we?"

"No, Dad," the children echoed together.

Miranda put a hand over her mouth and left the room quickly so she wouldn't succumb to more tears.

"No…" Cedric became angry as he looked back at the spirit again. "Would no one help them?! Why must an innocent _child_ die when the world _needs_ more good-hearted people like her?! Spirit, I don't understand!"

The scene faded again, and they appeared in a graveyard.

Cedric stood next to a tombstone and sat down beside it, feeling lost. "Why…?"

The spirit hovered next to the stone and gestured vaguely toward it.

"Spirit, I don't understand why young Sofia had to die. She was just a child… But tell me something." He looked up. "Wh-Who was that unfortunate man the three gentlemen and the shop dwellers were talking about? The one whose passing made them all so very happy?"

Nothing. No sound. No movement.

Cedric looked up. "Spirit?"

The 'spirit' stayed still, and what appeared to be a dark veil fell off, revealing a raven flying in its place.

Cedric gasped. "A…raven? A raven…the sign of…" He flinched as the raven cawed, landing on the tombstone, pecking at the writing. Cedric looked at it and blanched. "C-Cedric…the Sensational," he read. He blinked a few tears back. "So it was me… It was me…" He looked toward the raven sorrowfully. "Look, I can change! I'll be good to people and help them when they need it! I'll keep Wassailia in my heart and no longer curse it. Just save Sofia and my soul, because I… I can't take knowing what may occur because of my selfishness." He broke down, fisting his hands through the snow and squeezing it and until liquid water streamed from it. "Please!"

Again, Cedric awoke in his room, but he fell out of his bed with his bedsheets tangled around his limbs. He groaned in pain as he sat up, throwing the offending sheets from his body. He stood and ambled to the window. "It was a dream…," he murmured to himself. "What day is it?" He opened the window and leaned out, seeing young Desmond from earlier. "Excuse me, young man!"

Desmond blinked as he looked up. "Who, me, sir?"

"Yes! What is today?"

The fair-haired boy blinked. "Um… It's Wassailia Day, sir."

"Oh, it is! I haven't missed it!" Cedric laughed joyfully.

"Uh, heh… Yeah!"

Cedric grinned. "Can you do me a favor for a few pieces of silver?"

The boy's eyes widened. "Absolutely, sir!"

"Go to the shop on the corner, retrieve the pheasant from the window, and meet me at Roland d'Chance's house in the next hour."

"Yes, sir!" He took off running down the sidewalk.

The sorcerer smiled. "Wonderful. They'll be so surprised. The bird is almost as big as the children…" He laughed and turned to get dressed.

Less than an hour later, Cedric showed up to Roland's house, which really surprised the other man.

"U-Um, hi, Mr. Cedric," Roland greeted timidly.

"Hi, he says," Cedric grumbled as he was ushered quickly inside. "You weren't at work this morning, as we agreed."

"M-Mr. Cedric, you actually told me that I could have the day off, to spend with my family."

Cedric quirked an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. " _I_ said that? Interesting…" The smirk melted into a smile as he chuckled. "I know. I'm just kidding, Roland. Lighten up."

"Huh?"

Vivian and James laughed at the look on their father's face, while Miranda appeared relieved.

Sofia walked over to the sorcerer and tugged his sleeve.

Cedric glanced down at her. "Yes?"

She smiled. "Happy Wassailia, Mr. Cedric," she said cheerfully.

He knelt beside the girl just as Desmond and a company of other people arrived with food for the family. While everyone was distracted, Cedric smiled at the girl. "Happy Wassailia, Sofia…and thank you."

She giggled. "For what?"

"For saving me, dear girl…and believing in me when no one else would." He chuckled as the girl hugged him.

The family, the visitors, and Cedric all celebrated that day; Cedric even visited his nephew later and brought presents for him. And as the years passed, it was said that the sorcerer kept Wassailia in his heart and spirit better than anyone else. He became a mentor and friend to Sofia, and he made Roland his partner.

No one could have had a kinder demeanor than Cedric the Sensational, and it was all thanks to some very special spirits and one caring child with a heart of gold.

The end

 **Cedric sighed and shut the book. "Ugh, talk about overly sweet…"**

 **Sofia grinned, poking his arm playfully. "You loved every minute of it… And you saved me!"**

 **He rolled his eyes. "Go to sleep." He smiled softly as she leaned over and hugged him. "What's this for?"**

" **Happy Wassailia, Mr. Cedric." She beamed up at him. "I'll see you at the party tomorrow, right?"**

" **Naturally."**

" **Oh, before you go, let me go ahead and give you your present so we don't get distracted and I forget." She leaned over her bed and picked up a carefully-wrapped package, handing it to him.**

" **What have we here?" He pulled the ribbon from the package and set it aside, sliding the wrapping off to reveal a beautifully-crafted frame with a hand-painted picture inside. "Sofia…"**

 **She smiled. "I tried my best to get our likeness. And look, even Wormwood made it into the painting!"**

 **Cedric observed his new portrait, which included himself and his apprentice, with Wormwood resting on his shoulder. They appeared to be performing a spell, and their wands were lifted in unison. It was a really good painting—museum quality. She never ceased to amaze him. "Thank you, Sofia." He smiled at her. "Really…thank you."**

 **She giggled and hugged him again. "You're welcome, Mr. Cedric!"**

 **That night before he turned in, Cedric placed the portrait above his dresser in his bedroom, and he stared at it for a few minutes, admiring the picture within. A smile still graced his lips when he finally went to bed, and he slept the night away peacefully, his heart like a young child once more as he anticipated the next day: Wassailia Day.**

 **The end!**

 **A/N: I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas! :D Happy holidays and I hope you have a fantastic winter season with all of its festivities. I hope you enjoyed this story. I tried my best to incorporate elements from the book, the various versions of the movies that have interpreted the story, and of course "Sofia the First" itself. I've been working on this story for quite some time, and I'm glad to see it finished. :) I've enjoyed it. With that said, I hope you all have a wonderful and safe day. ;) And I guess I should say: "Happy Wassailia!" Haha, till next time! ~AquaTurquoise**


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